


Never Have I Ever Stuck My Wiener in A Light Socket

by Dogtagsandsmut



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Drinking, Drinking Games, M/M, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-16
Updated: 2013-11-16
Packaged: 2018-01-01 18:48:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1047338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dogtagsandsmut/pseuds/Dogtagsandsmut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boys play Never Have I ever...and it leads to a kiss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Have I Ever Stuck My Wiener in A Light Socket

"Never have I ever, hmmmmmmm. Mnnnn, hmmmmm. Ahhhhh, hmmmm."  
  
"Just go, Nathan."  
  
"Hmmmm, ummmm, uhhhhhhh slept with more than twenty-three chicks at once."  
  
Skwisgaar and Pickles drank, Toki griped under his breath and turned away, and Charles rolled his eyes for the 23 time and wondered when this game would be over. Pickles had started it  _eight hours ago_ , already a little tipsy as the boys sat in the living room, and Nathan had gone to fetch his manager from a teleconference meeting in which he had been stomping, snorting, and letting loose his usually tightly-reined fury upon several particularly ignorant venue directors. But now, nearly half a day later, almost everyone was sloppy, the normally-reserved manager included.  
  
Murderface was up. "Nehvar hasve I ever shlept with a dude."  
  
Pickles toasted with a grin and took a long swig of his Gentlemen Jack. Charles poured another shot of Isojiman into his delicate Japanese sake cup, thankful again for Toki's thoughtful Christmas gift. He tossed the well-balanced rice wine back with a mental lament that it wouldn't get savored.  
  
Unnoticed across the table, Nathan's eyes bugged out and he choked a little. He'd never considered his manager in a sexual light before. It raised questions in his mind. Was Charles, hmmm,  _you know_  the fuckee or the fuckerr? Did he put his mouth. . .down. . .there? Nathan's cock got a little hard as he pictured it; Charles, mouth wet, straining to take in air, lips shiny as they wrapped around his little man and went to town. He was so lost in though he almost missed Skwisaar's turn.  
  
Nevers have I evers had sex wid de ladies, numbers mores dan twenty-fours. Jah." Then he drank.  
  
"Dood, yer supposed to say stuff that you haven't done dood, not stuff you can drink to!" Pickles protested, even as he was taking his own swig.  
  
"Whatevers. There is nots anything I has nots done." Skwisgaar snorted with disdain, throwing his hair back over one shoulder and daring anyone to say something else. No one cared enough to, and Toki took his turn.  
  
"Never have I ever felts the love and kisses of. . .*sigh*. . .a moms." Nathan shrugged and pounded back another beer, figuring his mother to be the most normal of the group  
  
Skwisgaar snorted, drinking as well "I has, with my pee-nis. I loves de moms" He took another shot of the frosted bottle of Belvadere Toki lept from his seat, bearing down on Skwisgarr and slapping him ineffectively with both hands.  
  
"I means our moms, dildo! Your moms! You never had a hug and kiss from your moms! You dildos! You's a jerk, Skwisgaar!"  
  
"Jah! I makes it with your moms, Toki!"  
  
"You sucks, Swisgaar! You sucks!!" Charles and Nathan intervened at this point, ever the band-fathers, tugging the two guitarists apart.  
  
"Settle down, settle down now boys," Charles chided as tempers cooled. "After all, it's just a game. A, er, drinking game." And unexpectedly, the manager giggled, color flooding his usually pale cheeks. Nathan found it charming, and blushed himself and he helped Toki back into his seat, the boy still quietly muttering protests of  _you sucks!_  
  
"Pickles, you're up," Nathan grunted, trying once again to get his arousal under control. Pickles nodded with a knowing wink.  
  
"OooOkay, doods, never have I taken ecstasy from someone else's mouth." Toki, Skwisgarr, and Nathan all drank, but not before Nathan raised an eyebrow. He wiped his mouth with one large paw.  
  
"Have you really never friend-rolled, Pickles?"  
  
Pickles made a face of disgust. "Nah, dood, I mean, yuck, I like my pills not soggy you know, gets hard to take 'em then, you know, and it's kinda gross. I guess I have a problem with it."  
  
"Well, I don't," Charles said, and shot another flaskful of sake.  
  
"Seriously," Nathan asked, "You've done drugs?"  
  
"More than I'd care to admit," he bantered back  
  
"Still?!" Nathan asked, eyes wide.  
  
"Maybe. . ."  
  
"That's hot."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Brutal?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Exactly. Conversation over." And Nathan looked away. Charles looked, confused, at Pickles, whom he always relied upon to interpret any Nathan-speak that went over his head. Pickles just shrugged, though, twinkle growing in his eye.  
  
"Yer turn, Chief."  
  
Charles sighed, searching for something the boys shared in common without him. There was too much to choose from. "Never have I ever been a part of a group," he finally settled on, feeling heavy in his heart.  
  
Nathan screwed his face up at this calling, "Bullshit! You're, uh, a part of. This group. Of people. And organization. Choose another one. Anyway, didn't you used to fence on a team?"  
  
"Fencing is a solo sport, like gymnastics or archery. You don't compete on a team."  
  
"Whatever. Choose something else."  
  
Charles struggled to think through an alcohol-muddled brain for something Nathan would find satisfying. "Never have I ever felt the rush of performing on stage."  
  
"That's better." The entire band drank.  
  
Toki wiped the Tuaca off his lips with a choked-off cough. "We'll has to bring yous on stages Mr. Butlers-man. It's a rush, wow-ee!" Charles nodded, though he had no intention of being caught on stage, ever. He liked to be unnoticed, and being in the spotlight was in direct conflict with that philosophy. Still, he could image the feeling to be somewhat similar to what was happening now, this heady, cotton ball feeling, his thoughts dancing around his head like whips of smoke--he didn't usually drink this much. . .  
  
"Ahhhh, ummmmm, ahhhh, ummm, never have I ever slept with. . .more than 25 women," Nathan grunted.  
  
"Hey, no! Come on dood, you've done like 25 of dose! Pick something else," Pickles protested. Nathan rolled his eyes before squinting in thought. "Never have I ever. . .drunk until I wanted to fuck one of you lugs."  
  
Pickles looked surprise at Nathan's declaration, but said nothing. His drink remained untouched. In fact, only Toki drank immediately, before shooting a half-hopeful, half-goofy, fully intoxicated grin in Skwisgaar's direction, who at least had the tact to look mildly uncomfortable, and not just disgusted. Moving as if in a daze, Charles slowly followed suite with a shot of sake.  
  
The band erupted into conversation, each trying to talk over each other.  
  
"Who's is it, robot's man, is it mes, is it mes thats you want to sleep with, I bets its me. Everybodys always wants a pieces of the demigods--"  
  
"Who's is it, lawyers-man? Is it me? I thinks it's Pickles, is it Pickles? I bets it's Pickles or Skwisgaar, they always gets the best attentions! I hates you Skiwsgaar, I hates you!"  
  
"Dude, thatsh shick! That's a man, dude, we're all dudes, thatsh makes you gay! Why you wanna touch a man's penis, thatsh gross! You're gross, you gross robot. Robots are not to be trusted."  
  
Nathan wonders,  _Is it me?_  
  
"Is it Nathan?" Pickles asks.  
  
 _Do I want it to be?_  Nathan wonders. He looks over at Charles, with the half-smile plastered to his face. Poor guy. Nathan had dragged him down to the living room earlier, wanting the man to share in his games, wanting to get to know him better. Now Charles felt uncomfortable and Nathan felt  _really bad_  and in that moment he realized that yes, indeed, he did want Charles to think about him in a sexual way. He wanted that a lot. "Hey, you jack-offs, he doesn't have to answer your questions. Just, let's move on okay?"  
  
"Fine," Murderface slurred from where he lay slumped back in his seat. "Never havesh I ever wanted to kissh a dude."  
  
"Dood, what is with the homophobic declarations, I doth think someone protest too fucking much!" Pickles griped. Nathan wasn't listening to him though.  _Never have I ever. . .kiss. . .dude. . ._  
  
He made his decision like every other one--fully and completely committed--and, leaning forward, he seized his manager bodily, dragging him across the table with one hand twisted in the older man's fine silk work shirt. Once he had Charles lying on his side of the table, he scooped the little man up bodily, plopping him in the singer's lap. He took a deep gulp of beer, and then slamming the can down, proceeded to give Charles the deepest kiss he could. Charles moaned, first out of shock, and then pleasure, closing his eyes and wrapping his arms around the singer.  
  
"Never have I ever, uh, though of you this way before," Nathan murmured against Charles's lips.  
  
"Never have I ever not done so," Charles sighed, before brushing the singer's hair back from his face and kissing him again.  
  
Pickles stood and stretched, before ushering the other boys out of the living room to give the pair some space. He grinned, wickedly.  _Mission accomplished! Game over."_


End file.
